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I wanted to be the center of their focus because they wanted to give it to me, not because I was needy, and that was the crux. It was hard to be confident in our slowly forming bond when I was fretting over something that was completely out of my control. And so when the men were all needed to help repair a large section of fence that had washed out in a mudslide overnight, they were concerned about leaving me alone. They even suggested I go and visit the other women, but truthfully, it had been hard to face them after the group lunch. They all might be comfortable with fucking or being tended to with the others nearby, but I was not. It would take time, and my men seemed to understand that and didn't push me.
When they left for the stable to meet the others, I promised I would walk to Laurel's if I got lonely, for her house was the closest. Once they left, I was content to just read, the windows and doors thrown open to the warm summer day. It also left me open to unwanted visitors.
The footsteps I heard in the hallway I thought could be Simon's, perhaps returning to take me one more time. It was his way to come to me, heat and lust in his eyes, because he couldn't wait another moment to have me. It was hot and my heart pounded and my pussy wept just knowing I made him so eager. Frantic, even.
So when I heard his footsteps this time, I started to undo the buttons of my dress in anticipation, for I knew how much he liked to suck and nip on my nipples as he fucked me. But the man that came into the den was not Simon, nor Rhys or Cross. It was Mr. Peters. I tugged the front of my dress together with one hand as I stood and backed away. The look on his face was almost gleeful, which scared me greatly.
"What...what do you want?" I asked.
"I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to talk."
Talk? Why would he come all the way to Bridgewater to talk? The man was lying and definitely insane.
"How did you find me?" I eyed him warily and very cautiously.
He studied me, tilting his head to the side as to look at me better. His scrutiny was hard to stand, but I did not flinch, did not fill the silence as I waited for his answer.
Finally, he spoke. "They haven't told you, have they?"
"They?" I asked, frowning.
"You married Simon, but I know the other two are fucking you as well. It was all part of my plan."
I swallowed down the fear at seeing him as my fingers fumbled with the buttons on my dress. I didn't want to be exposed in any way with him.
"Plan?" I couldn't manage more than one word questions and I disliked that fact. I should have the upper hand, I should show him the door, but I couldn't. I was too afraid. There was something about his voice, the look in his eye, his bearing, everything, that had me nervous and wary.
"Why do you think you're here? Your men belong to me."
I frowned even more deeply. "I don’t understand."
"You rebuffed me, so I put men who belong to me in your path. You don't think Simon McPherson would be interested in the likes of you if not for a little incentive?"
The disdain in his voice had me flinching and the way his eyes roved over my body in disgust had me questioning Simon's touch, Rhys' words and Cross' wry humor.
He started laughing. "I can see that you did. I wanted your money, sweetheart, not you. If you weren't going to have me—and that crazy uncle of yours wouldn't let me get near you—then I'd get one of my men to have you instead. It was quite simple really. Simon gets a wife who will submit to his sick ways and fuck three men at once, along with a small payment for his efforts. By the look of you and the way you were stripping down just now, they have you well trained."
I wrinkled my nose in disgust. Had Simon only wanted me for some money and to have a woman to bed with his two closest friends? That couldn't be possible. It was obvious that Bridgewater was a successful ranch and wouldn't have married me for a little bit of money. It was possible he wanted a woman to share with Cross and Rhys, but all three of the men surely had never lacked in female attention and didn't need to marry to do that.
"Simon never even met me until right before we wed," I countered, trying to find issue with his account. "How would he have even met me in Helena?"
Mr. Peters looked down at his fingers as if bored. "He didn't have to. He used his friends to lure you in at the dance. I believe there are two men with whom you are shared?"
How did he know all of this? I remembered the feeling when I first laid eyes on Cross, then later, Rhys. Uncle Allen had used the word lightning, my heart lurching, my skin tingling, the feeling that everyone else in the room disappeared. They'd both been so confident in their attentions, so dominant and... so manly that I'd been almost distracted. The lightning had struck and my brain had lost clarity.
When I didn't respond, he continued. "Simon and I finalized the arrangement at the saloon while you were wooed at the dance. I just stopped in briefly to ensure the men were doing their job, but I had no need. It seems you were lured in quite easily."
A greasy feeling settled in my stomach as I remembered seeing him as I danced with Cross. "Simon works for you?"
The idea seemed preposterous, but here Mr. Peters was, in Simon's house and the story seemed...plausible. Doubtful, but plausible. He wanted something from me more than just talk and I had an idea what it was. I'd spurned his advances before, I doubted he'd let me do so now. I had to keep him talking.
"The horse was just a facade for the real business. You." He chuckled. "Do you really think he needs another horse? A stud horse? Simon's the stud horse and you're the mare." He grinned at his crude words.
I skirted around him and toward the door. I had to get away. "Then why are you here? If you have what you want, my money, then why even come to Bridgewater?"
He was quicker than I expected. His rotund physique hid a quick step and he grabbed my arm in a talon-like grip. "To ensure you knew the trut
h. I don't allow anyone to say no to me. You did and your uncle protected you, so I have to punish you. Now you will live with the truth—that you're married to a man who only wanted your money, your body. The other two sick bastards? Simon McPherson thinks so little of you that he'll even share you like a common whore."
